


She

by kafrickinboom



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Erica Reyes, Alive Vernon Boyd, Allison needs a hug and maybe a drink, Allison-centric, Angst, Bisexual Stiles Stilinski, But nothing after that happened, But she's underage so..., Chris Argent is a jerk, Concerned Lydia Martin, Conversations, Crying, Dead Victoria Argent, Denial, Eventual Fluff, F/F, Forgiveness, Good Alpha Derek Hale, I Don't Even Know, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, Lydia doesn't do apologies, Mentioned Jackson Whittemore, Mentioned Victoria Argent, Movie Night, Musician Allison Argent, MØ, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Pansexual Erica Reyes, Pining, Post-3A, Protective Erica Reyes, Sexuality Crisis, Shopping, Shopping Malls, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Song Lyrics, Songwriter Allison Argent, Thirsty Allison Argent, Unfortunate, allusions to, bowling, dodie clark - Freeform, food court, or something like it, supportive pack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-09-27 21:19:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10050596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kafrickinboom/pseuds/kafrickinboom
Summary: Am I allowed to look at her like that?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hello! 
> 
> This is the lesbian fic expanded from a song that moved me that nobody asked for! The song is called ["She" by Dodie Clark](https://youtu.be/Vpg3gtwepSs) and it reminded me a lot of my gay (re: pansexual) awakening. 
> 
> Anyway, this navigates through Allison's realization, her internalized issues with her sexuality, her acceptance, and how she (hopefully) gets the girl.

Allison had always loved string instruments. Plucked instruments in particular were her favorite, and her primary love had always been the acoustic guitar. The sound of her fingers sliding over the frets on a key change; the full, rounded sound reverberating through the body; the vibration of it against the top of her thigh; the rough calluses that had taken three weeks of pain to build on her fingertips that were like four little badges of honor - all of it blended together into her most favorite version of self-expression and her own way to defrag.

Her beat up, old guitar, endearingly named ‘Barton,’ had been her baby for the last six years. It was a comfort after a bad day, and it'd been her only friend at times, an outlet to vent her frustrations and sadness and unadulterated joy. It was the perfect middleman between her heart and soul, and the world.

She was idly strumming her guitar, toying with different chord progressions, when she felt her phone vibrate. It was a text from Lydia.

_ “SOS. Come over?” _

Concerned, she replied. “Be there in 10.”

\---

As Allison raised her hand to knock, the door flew open and she was pulled inside. She didn't have a chance to speak before Lydia pulled her upstairs to her room.  

“Thank God you're here. I've been driving myself insane trying to decide on what to wear to this date with Aiden. All of my outfits are fabulous, of course, but I need your opinion on which would melt him where he stands,” Lydia smirked, gesturing to her bed where they'd stopped.

Pursing her lips, unimpressed, Allison stared at the dresses before she turned to Lydia. Slowly, she asked “Are you telling me I drove out here to help you choose between black and floral?”

Lydia deflated. “I know this isn't really your thing, but you're my best friend. Who was I going to ask? Stiles? You've seen the way he dresses. You have the best fashion sense bar my own, and you know I haven't been on a date that I've been excited for since Jackson. I  _ need  _ this to be perfect.” Her gaze held Allison's for a moment before cracking, showing a bit of vulnerability that Lydia kept hidden behind her walls. “Please.”

Looking into her widened eyes, Allison felt her heart squeeze. She'd been there in the aftermath of the Jackson fiasco. After he left with barely a look back, Allison remembered Lydia's red-rimmed eyes and the fake, robotic smiles and watching her become a dimmer version of herself, feeling helpless, not knowing how to fix it aside from just being a support beam to prevent Lydia's foundation from cracking any further than it had already. She remembered the tears on her shoulder and long talks about self-worth without Jackson and trips to the diner for late-night pie and retail therapy and limp hair and daily naps induced by emotional exhaustion. Allison remembered how beautiful Lydia looked waking in the twilight.

It had taken 4 weeks for Lydia to start to shake the weight from her shoulders and stand straighter again. Allison was proud to see her best friend repair herself. It was like looking at a kintsukuroi vase, made stronger with gold like Lydia was made stronger from her heartbreak.

Allison closed her eyes for a moment to regroup. She sighed, opening her eyes to look back at the outfits laid out before her. “Fine, but I really can't judge without seeing them on.”

It was like the sun cresting the horizon, Lydia's smile.  _ “Thank  _ you. Just give me a moment.”

Allison’s breath caught, watching as Lydia turned without hesitation and removed the cardigan and skirt she was wearing before Allison caught herself dragging her eyes appreciatively over the curve of Lydia's bared thigh. She averted her eyes, blushing.

This wasn't the first time Allison had caught herself trailing her eyes over Lydia. It never failed to stun Allison how soft and smooth and  _ perfect  _ Lydia looked. It made her palms itch with the desire to touch.

_ Just to sate curiosity,  _ Allison thought blandly, shaking herself a bit. Anyway, it was probably the expensive-looking body lotion—

“ _ Cream, Allison,”  _ her mind recalled. _ “It has a higher viscosity than lotion and the oil to water ratio is roughly 1:1. I’d rather not waste money on a higher water content." _ Allison smiled fondly at the memory of Lydia's rant about the difference in terminology. It was sometime just after she'd snapped out of her Jackson slump. Lydia was always very precise with her wording, and after rebuilding herself, she never let go an opportunity to impress upon others the importance of clarification and correction of speech. Most people viewed Lydia as the Ice Queen, but Allison figured they'd never seen Lydia susceptible to heartache or impassioned about little things. The two faint lines that appeared between her brows, the forward lean, the unchecked gesturing as if it could Lydia could throw the words at whomever she was talking to to make it stick...it was adorable.

“Earth to Allison?”

Allison snapped back to the present to see Lydia in the black dress, raising her perfect eyebrows at Allison expectantly. It was a classic Lydia Martin dress. Tighter on the waist with a fuller skirt that almost grazed her knees. What really caught Allison’s attention, though, was that the portrait neckline–the only reason Allison even knew that term was from one of Lydia’s vocabulary rants–was more daring than she had expected. Being met with the skin along the tops of Lydia’s breasts, Allison felt a sudden weight in her stomach, thinking of Aiden seeing any of it.  _ Of course he’s going to see it. That’s the whole point. What’s my problem? _

Instead of giving voice to the turbulence in her head, Allison let the corners of her mouth stretch to a smile, and her eyebrows raise a fraction. “Wow, Lydia, you look stunning! Aiden isn't going to know what hit him when he sees you.” She watched as Lydia smiles that sunrise smile again, turning toward the full-length mirror on her wall, considering herself.

“Do you want to see the floral dress, or do you think this has enough ‘wow factor’ to deem it unnecessary?”

“Definitely unnecessary,” Allison said, smirking. Lydia's responding grin made Allison's heart trip.  _ Get it together, Allison. _

“Okay, now on to hair and makeup.”

Allison groaned.

\---

Later, back in her bed with her guitar in her hands, Allison strummed distractedly. In her mind's eye, she flashed back to Lydia's thighs and the dryness of her throat when she'd caught herself. The way she could hardly tear her eyes from them. The itch to slide her hands over them. The tripping of her heart in the face of Lydia’s curved grin. It was almost as if she was attracted to Lydia.

_ That can't be. Everyone has girl crushes. Doesn't mean I'm actually  _ attracted  _ to her.  _ She chuckled shortly at the ridiculousness of the thought before the statement before frowning, calloused fingers plucking at the strings of her guitar.

_ Am I allowed to look at her like that?  _ According to what Victoria Argent had believed, no. Allison felt her heart constrict and a lump rise to her throat at the thought of her mother, and felt a vague sense of betrayal for even entertaining the thought that she could be attracted to another girl. Her mom hadn't exactly been aggressively vocal in her disapproval, but Allison remembered the tension and grimace of disgust in her mother when same-sex marriage was legalized in California. She remembered her dad had no outward reaction and wondered what he'd think about her current contemplation. She remembered the pang of hurt she'd felt in the face of her mother's distaste. She still didn't know what to make of that.

She looked at the clock on her phone. It was just after 10 and she hadn’t received another SOS text, so she assumed Lydia was enjoying herself. She crushed down the spike of jealousy trying to claw to the forefront.

Heaving a sigh, Allison put her guitar on her stand in her closet and went to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

By Monday, Allison felt like shit.

After fitful sleep on Friday, she'd woken up to multiple texts about how surprisingly well Lydia's date had gone and how much of a gentleman Aiden was when he wasn't around other people and  _ 'God, isn't he just so hot, Allison?’  _ The twist of sharp jealousy was enough to ruin Allison's mood for the entire day.

It hadn't improved with Lydia's call later that night. She couldn't recall Lydia gushing over a person before, not even Jackson, and it made her all the more miserable.

“ _ We went to Pura Veda, so of course the dinner was delicious, and then we drove out to the Preserve, which I wasn't exactly impressed with until I saw the dessert picnic laid out. Somehow he knew peaches are my favorite. It might be trite, but he just looked so good under the stars. It feels like it's been so long since I've felt this kind of reciprocal attraction.” _

Allison had sat there listening, willing the expanding jealousy pushing against her heart away. She had no reason to be jealous. It wasn't as if Allison would lose Lydia to a new relationship.  _ Lydia isn't the type to abandon her friends for a man, and it's not like I want to date her, so why am I feeling so put out?  _ had been the question of the weekend. The only bright point had been finding a good chord progression to fit the song she'd written earlier in the week.

Come Monday morning, Allison was still dismally confused. She walked down the hall, passing Scott, thinking about their failed relationship.

When she'd met Scott with his crooked jaw line and his dimples and that stupid hair, it was like the swell of cheering at a concert–quick buildup and intense...for a while before petering out. In the beginning, she'd honestly thought she'd found her forever in him. With all that had happened since that fateful day of a forgotten pencil, everything was just one shit show after the other. They hadn't even been given a fair chance to try making it last before she'd felt her feelings flag. She hadn't expected her world to turn on it's head. She hadn't expected said perceived love of her life to turn out to be a werewolf, or that the hunting her parents had so loved all her life involved less deer and quail and more creatures of the night like Scott. She hadn't expected her aunt to have turned out to be a psychopath, or her mother to choose death over being turned, or her grandfather to use her rage against Derek, twisting it to hurt those her loved ones loved. She hadn't expected her eye to stray from warm, tanned skin and muscles to soft, pink lips and curves. She still can't quite look Scott in the eye.

Taking a deep breath, she also recalled how stunned she had been by the intensity and power of Miss Lydia Martin, taking immediate control of the conversation and dubbing Allison as her best friend. She remember how her first thought was an appreciative  _ 'damn.’ _

It was just then that she was met with the subject of her thoughts at her locker. Lydia looked at her with an expression that could only be described as  _ concerned. _

“Are you okay, Al? You look pretty pissed off.”

Allison quickly morphed her face into a facsimile of a smile. “Oh, no, I was just thinking about Harris’ test later. I am  _ not _ good at stoichiometry.”

Lydia's concern melted into exasperation. “If you were still struggling, why didn't you call me? I was free yesterday, and you know I'm always willing to help you with something so simple.”

“I know.” Allison’s face grew sheepish. “I was so caught up in my playing that I didn't even think about the test till this morning.”  _ And I may or may not have been trying to avoid thinking about Aiden touching you,  _ she didn't add.

Lydia pursed her lips, but said nothing more on the subject before her eyes slid somewhere past Allison. “There's Aiden. Part of me still doesn't even understand why I agreed to go on a date with him after the whole Alpha pack business. He's certainly not what I'd classify as a ‘good guy,’ but you can't deny he's just so nice to look at.”

“He’s alright.”

“‘He's  _ alright?’” _ Lydia repeatedly incredulously.

“I don't know, Lyds. He's just not my type.” She shrugged noncommittally, a wooden smile stretching her lips. “I'm just glad you're happy.”

Lydia opened her mouth, but shut it as the bell rang. She smiled at Allison. “Me too. See you at lunch,” she said turning to head to class.

\---

The only reason Allison had even been able to pay attention was sheer will. She refused to give in to the temptation of thinking about how Lydia had smelled of her lemongrass body cream and the soft petrichor of autumn rain. She violently shoved the image of Lydia's gloss-slicked lips shining in the light that Allison had to fight to stop staring at.

_ ‘Shit. _ _ Shit shit SHIT. I have an  _ actual _ crush on Lydia Martin.’  _ Allison thought as she paled, walking back to her desk after undoubtedly tanking her test. Sitting down heavily with this epiphany, she tried to think of how she was going to face Lydia. Thank the gods she didn't share this period with her.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Allison was supposed to graduate with at least a 3.6 GPA, get into a good music college, sing for the world, and maybe fall in love along the way...with a man. She had never thought of it as a child, but as soon as her parents had a negative reaction in the face of LGBT equality, she knew that she could never love a woman. It was wrong... _ right? _

Never had she truly entertained the thought of being genuinely attracted to another woman. Sure, girls were beautiful and soft and they smelled amazing and their voices were sexy when they just wake up and, sure, their curves were distracting sometimes and—Allison stopped that line of thought.

_ That's not exactly the straightest of thoughts, is it?  _ She grimaced. How was she supposed to face Lydia now? How was she supposed to act like everything was normal? It's not as if  _ Allison  _ was normal anymore. Lydia would see right through her, wouldn't she? She was the most intelligent people Allison knew. Would Lydia be disgusted by her interest?

_ No,  _ Allison thought. One of Lydia's friends was gay. Her–boyfriend? Fling?–’s twin was gay. Stiles was openly bisexual. Surely it would have come up if Lydia had a problem with it, right? Then again, Danny and Ethan were, a) in a relationship with each other, and b) not interested in her. She never seemed to have anything to say about Stiles’ sexuality. What if being the focus of Allison's interest grossed her out? It's not like this was exactly common in Beacon Hills.

Allison bit her lip on a frown, trying to shake off her racing thoughts. She would just have to grin and bear it. It wasn't the first time she'd had to hide a crush. She could do it again.

She groaned as she leaned forward, head resting on her desk.

\---

_ ‘Just play it cool. Don't act weird. This is fine. This is  _ fine’ was the mental pep talk Allison played to herself on loop as she grabbed her food from the lunch line. She wasn't sure she was ready to face Lydia yet, but seeing as they shared their lunch period, it was unavoidable. She couldn't just disappear without looking suspicious and she couldn't think of an excuse to skip out on lunch. She honestly wasn't that great of a liar anyway.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, she walked to her usual table, sitting down beside Lydia. She sent the other girl a fleeting smile before focusing on her food. Maybe if she just avoided Lydia's eyes, she could get through this. Her fingers itched to lay over the other girl's and  _ wow,  _ she needed to get a hold of herself.

Now that she was aware of her attraction, it was as if everything about Lydia that drew Allison in was amplified. She couldn't help but sneak looking at the way that strawberry blonde hair fell over her shoulder, the way her nose sloped just slightly, the gentle pink that set high on her cheeks, the way her eyes crinkled just a touch when she smiled at Allison. She honestly wished she'd brought her Polaroid camera so she could capture how beautiful she looked today. Allison felt like the air was sucked out of the room each time their eyes met. Lydia’s natural vocal huskiness was enough to make her subtly squirm, flush rising to her cheeks before she could beat it down.

She could feel the tingling that came with the awareness of being watched, and fastidiously ignored Scott's questioning gaze fixed on her. She knew her heart rate had to have been going crazy, especially given the weird  _ (weirder than normal)  _ looks she'd been catching from the resident werewolves. She was  _ not _ going there with her ex. 

She seemed to have managed to get through lunch by muscle memory alone. She breathed a subtle sigh of relief when the bell rang. She all but rushed out of the cafeteria with an apologetic smile, dodging super-sensory werewolves and ignoring the faint moue of pursed Lydia's lips.


	3. Chapter 3

Over the course of the last couple of weeks, it went like this: wake up, go to school, meet with Lydia at her locker, have a vaguely stilted conversation with a tense, fake smile and sweaty hands, force herself to stop watching Lydia’s ass as she walks away, fly through her classes without much of the information sticking, go to lunch, avoid making eye contact with everyone, _ especially Lydia, _ avoid werewolves in general, finish her classes, go home, ignore her phone (she ended up setting it to a semi-permanent ‘do not disturb’ after day three), brainstorm some ideas for lyrics, beat the cloying thoughts of Lydia into submission, do homework, play her guitar, go to bed.  _ Lather, rinse, repeat. _ Texts from her best friend were interspersed throughout and met with forced, awkward responses. It'd gotten to the point that Allison would start writing and stop herself multiple times only to delete the text entirely, letting the conversation die before it even took off. Weekends were a constant “sorry, I have to do ____,” filling her free time with strength, archery and weapons training to beat back the encroaching headaches and tension building in her body every time she thought of Lydia. It felt like she was physically beating back her own sexuality crisis.

Currently, she was doing her best to wear a hole through the punching bag, ignoring the inability to fully catch her breath and the sweat dripping into her eyes. Each hit reverberated through her in an attempt to dislodge the inappropriate attraction to her best friend. The ache of her muscles and the bruising around her knuckles screaming for reprieve had started to feel like a comfort. 

“Whoa, kid. You're working yourself pretty hard. Everything alright?” 

Allison spun around, fists up, and quickly deflated at the sight of her father. She sighed, looking at her dad’s cheek in order to avoid his eyes. “Yeah, dad. I'm fine.”

Narrowed eyes took in the limp, sweaty hair and the shaking of her overworked body. Her dad frowned, concerned, taking one of her hands. “You're bleeding. Stay here while I get the bandages.”

Allison hadn't even noticed. She must have grazed the bag just right to push her hastily wound hand wraps back, taking a piece of skin off two of her knuckles. She bit her lip, frowning at herself as she stares into the middle distance. She needed to get a hold of herself. She couldn't remember the last time she hurt herself during a simple workout. What was she going to tell her dad? She refocused on the blood sluggishly staining her wraps. Mesmerized, she clenched her fist to pull the cuts further. 

“What are you doing? You're going to make it worse.” Chris chastised. He gently removed the wrap and cleaned the wound, rewrapping it with a fresh bandage. “Now, tell me what's going on with you.”

Allison bit back a grimace. “Nothing's wrong, dad. I just got too into my head and wasn't really paying attention.” She forced a small laugh, turning around to clean the punching bag. She missed the deepened frown tugging at her dad's mouth. 

“Ally…” He muttered in that tone that practically dripped with concern. “Don't think I haven't noticed how hard you've been pushing yourself the last few weeks. You barely eat. You're not getting much sleep. You’ve been running yourself ragged with all this training. As far as I know, you haven't even been anywhere but school and home lately...” He dropped off, tone edging on expectant. Allison knew that damn tone. She knew it meant he was ready to wait her out, and he wasn’t going to drop it anytime soon.

“I just...needed some time to recalibrate myself. With everything that’s been going on lately with the after effects of getting rid of the alpha pack and me messing up so royally wi-with Grandpa and Aunt Kate,” she paused to swallow back the encroaching sadness threatening to well up, “I’ve just been stressed, so I’m...getting myself back in order…” She trailed off as her father’s gaze sharpened. 

“I thought things were getting better.” He said suspiciously. 

“They have! I just… I just needed more alone time to remember that, I guess.”

His eyes narrowed doubtfully. “Are-” His phone rang shrilly, cutting whatever he was about to say off. Allison subtly released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her dad gave her a quick kiss to the forehead. “I have to take this. We’re continuing this later.” He said, punctuating the statement with his patented ‘dad look.’

She rolled her eyes, nodding. He pursed his lips in response, but said nothing as he answered the phone, leaving the room.

Allison heaved a great sigh, lying back on the bench, picking up her phone for the first time in hours. She shut off the ‘do not disturb’ feature and was immediately flooded with notifications and texts, almost all from Lydia. Her brows furrow in concern as she opened the last message, received five minutes prior.

_ ‘Fuck this. I’m coming over.’ _

Allison cursed as she jumped up, booking it for the bathroom. On the way, she tried to come up with some sort of plausible reason Lydia couldn’t come over so she could reply, but came up with empty-handed. As soon as the door slammed behind her and the light flicked on, she hastily tore her clothes off and took the shortest shower she’d probably ever taken in her life. 

She knew Lydia wasn’t above cursing. It wasn’t the first time Allison had heard (or rather, seen...whatever) the other girl curse, especially in the aftermath of Jackson’s departure and through the ‘anger’ phase of her grief, but it was always a shock to her system because when Lydia stopped using her impressive vocabulary to throw at you and instead resorted to quick, succinct expletives, it meant she was done being nice. 

Allison mentally prepared for the cold anger as she threw clothes on (and if they were some of her shortest running shorts and a plaid shirt Lydia had left the last time she was there, so what?) and ran a brush through her hair. She checked the mirror of her vanity and grimaced at the purple-bruised bags that had taken residence under her eyes. No wonder her dad was so concerned.   
  
She was just about to attempt to apply concealer so she could lessen the amount of questions she was undoubtedly going to have to answer when the door burst open.


	4. Chapter 4

Lydia had always been beautiful. Whether neutral or surprised or deep in thought or beaming or even sad, she was consistently the most beautiful person in the room. Even now, as she stalked toward Allison, a vision of hurt and fury, looking so much like a valkyrie that Allison didn’t know if she’d walk away from this battle dead or alive, she took Allison’s breath away. Allison gulped as subtly as she could, constructing a smile in some approximation of ‘bright.’ 

“Lydia! Hi! Sorry I missed your texts! I just...I’ve just been busy with-”

“Cut the shit, Allison. I know something’s been going on with you and I don’t know what. Not only have you been ignoring my texts. You’ve ignored my calls. I barely see you at school and when I do, the conversations are half-assed at best. No one has seen you outside of school in  _ weeks. _ At first, I thought maybe you were sick, but not only have you been at school, but the amount of ‘sorry, I’m training’ texts I’ve gotten from you recently is frankly ridiculous. You look like shit.” She shifted her weight to one leg, worry written in every line of her face, impatience set in the purse of her lips. “So what’s going on? Why do you look like you haven’t slept since our last  _ real _ conversation? Why are you avoiding literally everyone?” 

Allison sat frozen, unsure of what to say. Lydia was basically a human lie detector these days. Hearing the rant about how Lydia wasn’t going to deal with lying anymore came around the time she started reading books on how to read body language. Allison was wracked with guilt every time she thought about it. She knew she was one of the many culprits that led to Lydia’s lack of trust in people’s word. She also knew she would have to continue lying to save their friendship.

“I just needed time to myself. It has nothing to do with you or anyone else.” She kept herself still, refusing to let any twitch or tick in her movements give her away. “I’ve been training so much because I want to be prepared to more kick ass should something break this calm we’ve had.” She gave a shrug, aiming her eyes at the middle of Lydia’s brows to avoid falling into her eyes. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Lydia rested her hand on Allison’s shoulder, eyes flickering over the familiar shirt for a moment before refocusing on Allison’s face, and Allison felt like she couldn’t breathe. 

“Yeah,” she choked out, brows furrowed as she toyed with the edge of her fresh bandage. She figured she would just have to use the same story she told her dad to maintain consistency. “I guess I’m...still messed up over my grandfather and Aunt Kate…”

Lydia’s suspicious face melted to understanding and sympathy, and Allison hated herself a little bit more. Lydia leaned down, wrapping her soft arms around Allison’s sharp angles, pillowing Allison’s face into the crook of her neck. Allison tensed as the scent of lemongrass and apples and a faint waft of Lydia’s bedsheets washed over her, silky hair pressed to the curve of her cheek as she forced herself to relax, reciprocating the hold. She felt the burn of tears stinging behind her eyes, attempting to push forward. She refused to let them fall. There would just be more questions and more touching and more holding, and she honestly didn’t think she could handle that. She gripped tighter to her best friend, and gripped herself tighter as well, smothering the urge to cry until it died out. 

Swallowing around the lump in her throat, she apologized into Lydia’s strawberry blonde locks. “I’m sorry, Lyds. I shouldn't have pushed you away like that. I just needed to...work on myself, I guess, to figure myself out. Forgive me?”

With a sigh, Lydia straightened, pulling herself away from the hug, tossing her hair and leaving Allison feeling unnecessarily bereft. “Of course I forgive you. You went through a lot of shit too. I just wish you would have told me what was going on with you so I could help.” She brushed invisible dirt off the front of her skirt, squaring her shoulders. “Now that we’ve cleared that up, can we please go back normal? I miss my best friend.” 

Lydia pouted and Allison felt the last vestiges of her resolve melt away under those puppydog eyes. She offered a small, breathy laugh and nodded, and just like that, Lydia’s damn sunrise smile bloomed on her face. Allison was  _ fucked. _ She felt her heart trip over itself and thanked the universe that Lydia’s supernatural powers didn’t include super hearing. 

“Good,” Lydia said, relieved, settling on Allison’s bed (much to Allison’s chagrin - imagining Lydia in her bed was only going to get  _ worse.) _ “You know my birthday’s coming up next week. I’m obviously having a party, and you’re obviously coming, but since you’ve been distant these last couple of weeks, we need an ‘us’ day. Today, preferably”

Allison’s brows furrowed, turning back to the mirror to try and fix her face. In case she happened to run into anyone else, she’d rather not look like she got punched in the face with those bruised bags hanging under her eyes. It’s not like she could get out of it. She couldn’t dodge this when she’d been a shit friend and anyway, she knew that when Lydia was determined, she usually got what she wanted, so Allison didn’t see the point in fighting it. She wasn’t particularly looking forward to spending the whole day with Lydia in the middle of her self-imposed angst fest. This couldn’t be anything good for her heart. “An ‘us’ day?”

“We need one. Have you eaten yet?” 

“Uh...no. Not yet. I just got done training when I got your text.”

Lydia went still, abandoning her study of her makeup in her compact, eyes cutting to Allison sharply. “You haven’t eaten at all today?”

Allison’s brows furrowed yet again as she finished concealing her under-eyes, moving on to a quick mascara-and-lip gloss combo so they could just go and get today over with. “No?” She looked at Lydia’s concerned moue and rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. I’m not even shaking, see?” She held up her bandaged hand, forcing it steady, without really thinking. 

“What happened to your hand?” Lydia questioned, deepening concern coloring her tone.

“A little accident on the punching bag. Seriously, I’m fine.” She laughed a little nervously as she finished up her makeup, turning to take in Lydia’s disapproving frown.   
  
“You should have eaten. You can try and hide that trembling all you want, but it’s still obvious. Are you ready?” At the responding nod, “let’s go,” grabbing Allison’s hand and pulling her to the exit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happened in those few weeks? How will Allison deal with their ~~date~~ 'us' day?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOOOW. I'm _so_ sorry for not updating sooner. I've been distracted by other fics (and what with April being my busiest month due to not only one, but TWO birthdays to celebrate, things have been crazy). Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Allison was pretty sure she was in hell. It was the only explanation for how this day was going. After a late lunch at their favorite diner, complete with peach pie (which unfortunately made Allison want to chase the taste on the other girl’s tongue), Lydia dragged her to the mall for some ‘retail therapy.’ Allison rolled her eyes as her arms were currently loaded with shirt, dress  _ and _ skirt options for both herself and Lyds, none of it actually chosen by herself. She found herself itching to leave because she knew that once Lydia was done finding clothes for them to try on, they’d be hitting the fitting rooms, and  _ fuck, _ Allison wasn’t ready for that, but she was exhausted and she needed to get this over with so she could go back to avoiding her predicament.

“This color would look  _ amazing _ on you,” Lydia said for what had to have been the eighteenth time, holding up another bold-colored piece of clothing. Allison smiled weakly as Lydia’s fingers glanced over her shoulder. It was if that little touch became a tattoo of sensation. It felt as if her fingers lingered much longer than the graze it really was, and Allison felt like she was going crazy. 

“Alright, I think we have more than enough. Let’s just go try them on.” She said wearily and she ignored the pang that came with the falling of Lydia’s content smile, rushing to reassure her best friend. “I’m just tired. The workout today was killer.” 

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t overwork yourself so damn much,” Lydia replied with a hair flip, turning away to march toward the dressing rooms. Allison grimaced as she followed, forcing her eyes to remain lifted from the way Lydia’s skirt swung around her thighs. Before she could even suggest separate rooms, Lydia gripped her arm, pulling her into the nearest room. She locked it, toeing off her shoes and unzipping her skirt before Allison could even protest. 

“I-I’m gonna go to the next room. There’s not a lot of room in here,” she started, and Lydia froze. 

“We’ve always shared a dressing room. It’s much quicker to just try things on and show the clothes as we put them on than to separate and wait for the other to finish before coming out.” Lydia looked at Allison like she didn’t know what to make of her, and Allison found herself wanting to kiss that little wrinkle forming between those perfect eyebrows.    
  
“I know, I just…” She struggled to find an acceptable excuse, and felt the panic climb as she backed herself into a corner. “N-nevermind. This is fine.” She blundered and refused to pay heed to the burning sensation in her cheeks. She whirled around, hanging up all of Lydia’s choices before ripping her shirt off. She fought to keep herself steady as she pulled down the first of many shirts to try on.

“Where did this come from?” Lydia asked, and Allison jumped when soft fingertips settled on her lower back. 

“Where did what come from?” She choked out. It felt as if someone had turned down the oxygen in the room, and Allison repressed the shudder as Lydia’s nails caught just so on her skin.

“The massive bruise on your lower back?” Lydia said, dropping her hand, and Allison could only imagine the eyeroll accompanying that unimpressed tone considering she was still turned away from the other girl, stock still. “If you tell me it’s from training, I’m going to insist you calm down with all of that.”

Allison pursed her lips as she turned around, immediately regretting it as Lydia stood before her, unabashed in her fucking bra and underwear. She clenched her jaw, averting her eyes. “It  _ was _ from training. I miscalculated how wet the tree was and slipped off of a low branch, and got this as a reward for my mistake.” She clenched her fists, meeting her best friend’s eyes. “And I’m fine. Really.” She turned back around, throwing on the tight-fitting, red shirt Lydia insisted would look amazing on her and blushed at how much cleavage she was showing off. “Anyway...how’s this?” 

“You look fantastic, just like I knew you would.” Lydia’s eyes swept over Allison, looking like she wanted to say more, biting her lip against whatever was on her mind. Allison swallowed thickly, tucking rogue loose strands of hair behind her ears as she reminded herself to breathe. She jerkily turned back around (she was getting dizzy - was it the turning or was it because of the way Lydia looked with her lip caught in her teeth?), and tried on the other shirts in quick succession.

Lydia looked beautiful in everything she chose - not that Allison was surprised. She could make a damned burlap sack look fabulous. Every dress fit her curvy body like a dream, and Allison was beginning to wonder how she could  _ ever _ have considered herself to be 100% hetero. She wanted to run her fingers over the lace edging of Lydia’s undies, to kiss those soft lips, to bury her face into every curve, to run her fingers through that lustrous hair… She shook herself, needing to snap herself the hell out of it before she got herself caught staring. 

The atmosphere grew a little tense as they tried everything on, edging more toward safe conversations about schoolwork and shopping and Lydia’s upcoming birthday party. Allison thanked the cosmos Lydia hadn’t brought up Aiden at any point in the conversation. It all felt a little left of center, and Allison hated herself for bringing them to this point. She and Lydia had been friends for a long while now - after years or moving from town to town, it was her longest friendship to date. They’d already been through so much shit ranging from boys and jealousy and lies to hunters and supernatural creatures and half of their duo  _ becoming _ a supernatural creature. Allison needed to get a get a grip before she single-handedly ruined what they had, all over a silly crush. She took a deep breath, resolving to act as normally as she could.

After wrapping up and buying a few items, they headed to the music store. Allison perused the guitar string section, grabbing a couple sets of replacements for the ones that had snapped recently, before wandering through the aisles of albums, picking a couple she’d been anticipating for a bit. She stopped by Lydia who was intently listening to a preview of  MØ’s new release.  Allison raised her brow at the lyrics floating up to her ears.

_ “ _ _ I'll take you out tonight _

_ Leave it all at home _

_ Don't care about your boyfriend waking up alone _

_ I just wanna spend the nights with you, _

_ Do it like your mother said not to do _

_ Every time I hear the phone ring _

_ I feel the same thing, I feel the same thing, oh _

_ I just wanna spend the nights with you” _

Allison’s ears burned as she kept her face neutral. Good god, wasn’t that just fitting? She kept her eyes glued to the album racks, not wanting to possibly draw attention to the fact that she was internally mortified. She picked up a copy of the new  MØ CD, contemplating buying it. Hell, it was so relatable, she had to have it. She added it to her pile before heading to the register with a simple ‘I’m done’ thrown Lydia’s way. 

Lydia sidled up to Allison, leaning her back against the counter as they waited for the clerk to ring up Allison’s total.

“You’d tell me if something else was up too, wouldn’t you?” Lydia murmured, and Allison’s eyes snapped to her best friend studying her nails. She couldn’t remember the last time Lydia couldn’t - or wouldn’t - meet her eyes. “Not only have you been an absent friend for weeks now, but you’ve also been pretty tense all day. Have I done something I’m not aware of?” With that, she turned her big, sad eyes up at Allison.

Allison rushed to reassure her friend. “No! No, you haven’t- you haven’t done anything. I’m just...still feeling off.” Lydia’s lips pursed in suspicion. “I swear,” Allison said, turning up the wattage of her own puppydog eyes. 

Lydia heaved a delicate sigh, crossing her arms. “Fine. Don’t tell me.” At the sound of Allison’s sputter of protest, her gaze grew sharp. “We’ve been friends for a couple years now. I know when you’re doing the whole ‘doll eyes’ routine. It makes you look extra sincere to people around you, but since I employ it too, I know when you’re lying.” Her ire died down to something more melancholic. “I just wish you’d tell me what I did.” 

Allison watched helplessly as Lydia walked away.

“Uhh...I know it’s none of my business, but...maybe you should talk to your girlfriend.” The cashier offered, and Allison’s jaw clenched along with her fists.

“She’s not my girlfriend, and I didn’t ask for your advice anyway.” She spit, slapping down the money and grabbing her bag, not even bothering to wait for her change before storming off after her friend.

“Lydia!” She called out to the redhead, at least 50 feet ahead of her. And she was ignored. Of course. She sighed irritably, weaving her way stiltedly through the crowd as she picked up the pace. She threw out some half-hearted apologies when she couldn’t gracefully avoid knocking shoulders with a couple people. 

Somewhere around the food court, she found a clearing in the mass of people. That was around the time she realized she managed to lose track of Lydia. She’d tried to keep her eyes peeled for a flash of Lydia’s bright hair or the soft pink cardigan or  _ something, _ but her friend was also 5’3” and knew how to disappear when it was deemed necessary. She groaned in frustration, moseying to a table on the outer edge of the court, sending a text to Lydia asking where the hell she was. After 5 minutes, she got a response:  _ I’ll be back in a minute. Sorry. _

What the actual  _ hell. _ Allison dropped her phone onto the table, resting her face in her hands as she thought about the shit show this day had turned about to be. Just like she knew it would. 

The air shifted around her and she tensed a moment before a saccharine voice and equally saccharine perfume pervaded her senses.

“So, word’s going around you’ve got the hots for our resident banshee.” Erica fucking Reyes purred, and Allison jumped. Erica’s eyes narrowed meanly as she settled across from Allison like she’d been invited. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Monotone, Allison sat up straight, trying her level best to come off as cool and collected. Erica’s cackle had always grated on Allison’s nerves, but with the tension of the day, it was almost unbearable. She pursed her lips, remaining silent.

“Oh, honey,” she started in a false pitying tone. “It’s pretty obvious. The longing looks you give when you think no one’s watching. The disappearing act. The poorly covered bags under your eyes. Your  _ scent _ whenever she’s around.” Allison felt the blood run from her face, and Erica laughed again, before resting her chin on her hand, looking at Allison like she didn’t know what to do with her. “You’re not as sneaky as you think you are.”

“I-I don’t,” she choked out weakly before a sensation not unlike a hand around her throat cut her off. Allison was pretty sure Erica was still talking, but all she heard was muffled noise as her heart began beating out of her chest. She vaguely noted that Erica’s smug smile faded as she struggled to breath. She closed her eyes, tilting her head down to hide as much as she could with her hair up, as she tried to will away the damned  _ panic attack _ she was having in the middle of the mall. She wasn’t used to this sensation, the complete untethering from any semblance of control she’d once had, but she remembered the few times she heard Stiles talk about his experiences with them, and tried to implement the five senses thing or whatever. She felt a soft hand with sharp nails gently lay over hers, and though she didn’t exactly want Erica touching her, she used it as her touch element to start bringing her back down. She focused on the spicy-floral scent of Erica’s perfume. She focused on the lull of Erica’s voice, so soft and unlike the borderline cruel tone she’d used not even a full five minutes prior, counting slowly and Allison linked her breathing with those timer. She felt the tears welling up behind her eyes, but she absolutely refused to let them fall in front of the girl who had just teased her into a panic attack. She willed her hands to stop shaking like a leaf, and the silence between them was incredibly awkward.

With a regretful clearing of her throat, Erica apologized. Well, as much of an apology as Allison would get from her, she supposed. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I was joking. I don’t think many people know - just me. Boyd. Maybe Scott. Probably Stiles.” She grimaced as Allison lifted a teary glare toward her. “Look, I’m not going to say anything. This situation’s sad enough without me outting your unrequited feelings.” She pursed her lips at Allison’s dejected face, sighing. “You’ve got it bad for her, don’t you?”

“Like you don’t already know.” Allison spit, frowning down at her bitten nails. “I don’t need this on top of my own shit, okay? Just leave me alone.”

“Mmm...no. I don’t think so.” Erica said before standing. “Stay here. I’ll be right back,” and she left, ignoring Allison’s protestations. 

There really wasn’t any point in trying to leave anyway. What with the fact that Erica could literally just sniff her out  _ and _ the panic attack leaving her weakened, it would just be wasting energy to fight it. Allison rolled her eyes at herself for  _ being _ so weak. She was a huntress, a skilled archer, strong, logical (for the most part) even through her impulsivity, a fighter. Feeling this out of control was doing numbers on her already low self-esteem. 

Two trays filled with Sbarro pizza, a couple strombolis, breadsticks and two large drinks plopped down in front of her. She looked up at Erica like she’d grown a second head, and was cut off before she could get a word out.

“I used to have panic attacks too. Before the bite. And...maybe a couple after, too,” she frowned. “Stiles still has panic attacks from time to time. We both get hungry afterward, and I guarantee you are too, so eat.”

Allison ignored the conveniently-timed grumbling of her stomach and the subsequent return of Erica’s smug grin, gingerly picking at her stromboli until Erica rolled her eyes, urging her to ‘pick up the damn food, Argent.’ Allison had to purse her lips against the laugh building up in her. She gave in, closing her eyes and groaning around the huge bite she’d taken. She hadn’t had this much carb-heavy food in upwards of a month. Even lunch with Lydia had consisted of tomato soup and a salad. 

“Jesus  _ fuck, _ this is so good,” she moaned, uncaring of how ridiculous she must look. When her eyes fluttered back open, she noticed Erica was staring at her lips, licking her own for a moment before she snapped out of it, smirking. 

“Well, damn, Ally A. You gotta stop depriving yourself of the good things in life. When’s the last time you had pizza anyway?”

Allison mumbled out an answer and it was Erica’s turn to look at her in disbelief.

“What’s got your panties in such a twist anyway? I’m pretty sure Lydia wouldn’t mind.” Erica pointed out with a raised brow.

Allison sighed. She couldn’t believe she was actually going to have this conversation with  _ Erica Reyes _ of all people - a girl she fucked over pretty badly, a girl who hated her guts and rightfully so, a girl who she wasn’t positive she could trust - but she needed to get at least some of this weight off her chest before it crushed her.

“It’s not right,” she said, voice barely more than a whisper.

“Excuse me?” 

“I… According to my family, it’s not right. It’s...an abomination. My mom was pretty adamant about that fact, and my dad never said anything to challenge it. Looking back, Aunt Kate,” they both cringed, “wasn’t exactly for it either. I remember her talking with my parents about a couple of ‘fags’ she’d worked with and how they were...revolting. A perversion. Mom kind of made this noise of agreement or something, and dad just shook his head. Mom kind of always had this future in her head that she had planned out for me. A husband, a couple kids, raising my super hetero family with the hunter’s code. Just, a lot of shit’s been coming back to me lately since figuring out I’m not as straight as I thought I was, and I guess it’s just…fucking me up...” She trailed off, eyes locked to her food as she let Erica process that.

“What the actual fuck.” Erica said angrily, and Allison jerked, meeting her eyes. She moved her tray to the side, tilting forward into Allison’s space. “There’s  _ nothing _ wrong with us. Don’t you  _ ever _ forget that.”

Allison was shocked.  _ “Us?” _

Erica scowled. “Yeah. Us. I’m pansexual. I don’t care about parts so much as hearts, I guess. That whole ‘homosexuality is a sin’ bullshit needs to die. Even if there is a god, goddess,  _ whatever, _ they’re not going to hate us for being in love or having fun with someone else. What kind of logic does that make?” Her tone grew mocking. “‘Oh, something good and light and happy is  _ clearly _ on the same plane as cheating, lying, rape and murder.’ So stupid.” She huffed, softening as she studied Allison’s undoubtedly stunned expression. “Seriously Ally. We’re not…’revolting’ for doing something that feels good. I’m sorry your family made you feel that way.”

Allison swallowed thickly, resting her hand over Ericas, gripping tight to emphasize her, “thank you.” She felt like a tiny piece of that weight fell off to the side, and the difference was wonderful. Erica turned her hand over, effectively holding Allison’s hand and her smile softened further.

“So, where’s Boyd? Not that it hasn’t been...surprisingly nice talking to you, but,” she said on a laugh, “you guys are almost always joined at the hip.” 

“Eh.” She waved off. “We all need our alone time. It was providence running into you, I guess.” She reflected Allison’s smile before sliding away. “I-” A sigh. “I  _ am _ sorry for teasing you like I did. I didn’t know your family was like that.” She looked supremely uncomfortable, and Allison couldn’t help finding it endearing. She bit her lip on a laugh.

“It’s alright.” She paused. “Well, it’s not  _ alright, _ but I forgive you. It’s not like you could have known.” 

It was weird. It almost felt like a bit of the weight between them fell off as well, and Allison felt lighter than she had in weeks. She sighed as she bit into her pizza, ignoring Erica’s sharpening smirk as she let out another involuntary moan.  
  
“What the hell?!” A shrill voice sounded just behind her and she froze before Lydia’s angry face came into her field of vision followed by a nonplussed Aiden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pinky promise I'll try to get the next chapter out sooner.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but things should pick back up soon enough.

“So I leave for a few minutes and you’re suddenly all buddy-buddy with Erica?” Lydia demanded, completely ignoring the girl in question and Allison was immediately thrown for a loop. Erica looked like she was gearing up for a fight, straightening from her casual slouch with a darkening expression, but Allison stopped her short with a hand hooked over her forearm and a pleading look. Allison looked up at Lydia, baffled.

“‘A few minutes?’” She said incredulously before deflating. She wasn’t trying to push for a bigger fight than necessary. “Look, I know we’ve all...had our issues, but that doesn’t mean that’s the be all, end all. I’m just exhausted by all the tension all the time. It really doesn’t have to be that way,” she reasoned.

“She tried to kill me!” Lydia’s face grew stony as her gaze volleyed between Allison and Erica, whose mouth was pulling into that trademark smug smile. Allison kicked her under the table with a black look.

“First of all, it wasn’t just Erica. Second, we all know they made a mistake thinking you were the kanima. That was  _ months _ ago. I thought we were over this.” She meant it as a statement, but her tone made it a question, and suddenly she was having a staring (re: glaring) contest with her best friend. She would have laughed if it was in any way funny, but the fact that Lydia just  _ left _ without any warning, then returned also without warning with her boyfriend (who, ironically, had tried to kill them  _ all, _ so Lydia’s argument was completely null) in tow on a day that was  _ supposed _ to be about the two of them, and then had the audacity to give her bullshit for talking to someone else was really pissing her off.

Eventually Lydia recognized that Allison wouldn’t back down from this, heaving a sigh with sharply arch brow. “Fine. Aiden, let’s sit down,” she ordered, and he did, albeit reluctantly.

Allison thought she would have had to have pleaded with Erica to stay (with her eyes or telepathically or something, because she wasn’t trying to be  _ that _ obvious), but maybe Erica could smell the dread or something because she just scooted over to make room for Aiden to sit beside her with a sneer. Allison breathed a subtle sigh of relief. Erica shot her a little smile and a wink, and Allison’s breath caught.

Oh no. Nooo no no. She knew Erica was beautiful. That was obvious to her before the bite and the confidence that exuded from her after only amplified that fact, but Allison  _ really _ didn’t need that to distract her. She already had feelings for her best friend - her  _ heterosexual, taken _ friend. She didn’t have any desire to throw in the beginnings of feelings for another girl with a boyfriend, especially one who liked girls as well. Crushing on Lydia was a hopeless thing. Crushing on Erica would be like wanting something just out of reach.

She snapped out of it when she realized she was staring into those big, brown eyes. Erica’s brows climbed higher as she straightened, averting her eyes.

“So. What were you two talking about?” Lydia inquired politely, using the diplomatic tone she used when she was uncomfortable with the situation. Allison froze. Aiden would have been able to hear at least part of that conversation. She could only hope he only caught the tail end of it, but the look he was throwing her way was distressing. She shared a worried glance with the unfazed Erica.

“I confronted her about the bullshit she pulled with Gerard. We...talked.” Erica shrugged.

“We both decided that we could work on moving on.” Allison added, once again relieved when Erica smiled in response. Lydia pursed her lips and raised a brow, nodding in acquiescence. Allison cleared her throat, hiding her grimace as she turned to Aiden. “Anyway, what are you doing here? Lydia didn’t say you’d be joining us.”

Aiden looked up from where he was boredly studying his nails. “I was in the area. Lydia said she was at the mall, so I stopped by,” he threw a smirk at his girlfriend. Allison felt nauseous. “We should probably head out soon or we’re gonna be late.”

“Wait, what? I thought we were having an ‘us’ day,” Allison turned to Lydia, . “I’m sorry for being weird earlier. I’m just having a lot of personal issues.” She startled when Aiden snorted, giving her a knowing look before turning away, leaving Allison break out in a cold sweat. 

_ What the hell was that? _ Maybe she was overthinking things. A lot of people seemed to think she had ‘issues’ because of her family...and the mistakes she’d made in the past, but what if Aiden heard more than she’d hoped? What if he knew what her ‘issues’ actually were? Would he tell Lydia? She could feel herself working herself up when a set of nails gently scratched over the back of her hand, bringing her back down. She looked at Erica in thanks before pulling herself together. Lydia was scrutinizing the exchange, brow furrowed with a deep frown. 

“Ah, anyway-” She started only to be cut off by Lydia.

“Aiden and I are going out tonight since you’re still completely closed off. I love you, Ally,” and Allison tried her level best to keep her heart from skipping a beat (and failed, judging by Aiden’s asshole-ish smirk and Erica’s vaguely piteous expression), “but we can’t have an ‘us’ day when I’m the only one putting in effort. Just...start answering your texts, and we can try again some other time. When you’ve decided to be my best friend again.” 

Allison could sense the hurt Lydia was trying to hide, and goddamn it. She didn’t want to hurt the woman she was three-quarters of the way in love with. She needed to give some sort of explanation, but now really wasn’t the place or time to do it. She still reached out for her friend in a last-ditch effort to make her stay only to be brushed off, hand still hanging in the air as Lydia took Aiden’s proffered arm, eyes trailing after their path until they left. 

“Shit, Ally,” came from her right and a soft hand gently wiped at her cheek.  _ When had she begun crying? _ “You’ve really got it bad, huh?” Allison turned toward her (friend? Acquaintance? Ally?), miserable as she rested her head on her crossed arms. Erica patted her head, right on top of her bun, in commiseration and Allison snorted, shaking her head.

“Alright. This is pitiful.” Allison lifted her head high enough to rest her chin on her arms, looking up at Erica through her lashes. “Christ, you have the worst case of puppy-dog eyes I’ve ever seen, and we’ve  _ all _ seen Scott’s sad, little, innocent lamb act.” Allison barked an involuntary laugh, burying her mouth into her wrist. Erica grinned mischievously. “Alright. Let’s get out of here.”

That got Allison’s attention. “What?” 

Erica stood up, rolling her eyes as she motioned for Allison to follow. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but Lydia drove you here, right? That means you don’t have a ride, and I’m also assuming you’d rather your dad didn’t pick you up.” Allison grimaced, grabbing her bags and coming up to Erica’s side as she smirked. “Thought so. I figured you have a few options here. You could walk home, I could take you, oooor...you could say ‘fuck it’ to your and Lydia’s tragic ‘us day,’” she rolled her eyes, “and hang with me for a while. Maybe with the pack later. In the spirit of moving on, of course.” She offered her hand innocently and Allison hesitantly took it, a little confused by the gesture. She’d seen Erica hold hands with all of her friends before, but Allison didn’t think  _ they _ were at that level yet. Still, it was nice to have a soft warm hand in her own. 

She had no idea what they would do, but Erica was the first person she opened up to in weeks, and she needed to keep with the momentum of coming back to normalcy. Maybe hanging out with Derek’s pack wouldn’t be so bad. Allison  _ was _ pretty desperate to move on, to get the weight of her sins off her chest and to work toward forgiveness.

“Yeah, sure. Let’s do it.”

\---

Allison was beginning to regret agreeing to hang out with Erica. The girl drove like a fucking maniac - speeding in the areas between the usual speed traps, barreling through yellow lights, tearing through short cuts, and Allison was positive they’d been  _ this _ close to drifting at least twice. Thank god she’d at least had the common sense to wear a seatbelt.

She looked over at Erica with an incredulous expression, white-knuckling the ‘oh shit’ handles, and she had to fight the tiny smile trying to creep on her face at the sight of how  _ happy _ Erica looked. Her big, blonde curls danced in the breeze let in from the crack of her window. Her eyes were big and excited and were paired with a bright, genuine smile. She drove like she hadn’t a care in the world, like she was limitless, and Allison admired that freedom of self to a certain degree. That didn’t mean she wanted to die today. 

She’d told Erica to slow down a couple of times and was dismissed the first couple of times with a laugh and an eyeroll. Maybe the third time really was a charm. Maybe it was because of the panic climbing up her throat, probably stinking up Erica’s car. Either way, she did slow down...to just around five over the speed limit rather than the twenty to twenty-five she was maxing out on.

When Erica pulled into Beacon Hills’ local bowling alley, Allison’s brows furrowed in incredulity...again. She hadn’t been here in ages. Not since she and Scott broke up. She followed Erica, amused that they were going bowling of all things rather than something more dangerous or something. Allison hadn’t pinned Erica for a bowler.

“I texted Stiles, by the way. Looks like he brought the cavalry.” Erica frowned as Allison jerked beside her, spotting their friend with Scott, Isaac, Boyd and that new girl (Kara? Kira? Something like that) waiting in line for rental shoes. Allison groaned, letting her head hang for a moment before straightening up, shaking off the building tension. This was going to be interesting to say the least.

She fought the urge to sigh.  _ Werewolves. _ “Let’s go.” 

“Catwoman! Hawkeye: Katherine Bishop edition!” Stiles exclaimed in greeting, making everyone in the group collectively welcome them, and everyone else around them  turn and look in curiosity. He ducked his head at Allison’s unimpressed expression for a second, but returned Erica’s smile. 

They made their way through the line, Allison stifled a laugh as she noted the werewolves’ faces as they grabbed their shoes. She couldn’t even imagine the layered smells coming off of those aged shoes and once again thanked the universe that she was human. 

They decided to just run all seven people through one lane, with Scott taking the lead. Allison watched him fondly as she remembered their first date. He was probably the worst bowler she’d ever seen, but with a little bit of encouragement (wink, wink), he started wiping the floor with them. Even though Jackson made an effort to tank the mood while he was there, it had been a lot of fun, especially once Lydia stopped pretending she wasn’t good just for her then-boyfriend’s benefit. Lydia’s confidence was one of the most beautiful things Allison had ever seen.

Allison frowned to herself. She really needed to stop thinking about Lydia. Her friend had made her choice, and Allison needed to have fun while she was here. She looked up just in time to notice that she was up next. She sailed through her turn, landing a strike on her first try. She high-fived Stiles on the way to her seat, watching as the poor guy managed a 7-10 split. 

A cleared throat beside her pulled her from watching Stiles figure out how to break it. She turned and immediately regretted not paying attention to who she sat next to. 

“You know you can always talk to me, right?” Scott asked with one of his genuine smiles.

Allison sighed, her own small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”   


“Then why haven’t you?” He was beginning to get that ‘kicked puppy’ look. Allison shot him a flat look. He snorted, scratching at the back of his neck. “Just because we’re not together, that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, right?”

Allison looked around at the group, all in which seemed particularly interested with whatever was in front of them. Kira, on the other hand, seemed oblivious, chatting away with Isaac about something about where she moved from. Allison licked her lips nervously.

“There’s more to it than that and you know it. You know things got really,  _ really _ bad for a while and I did a lot of shit I regret.” She grimaced as she studied her nails. She began aggressively pushing at her overgrown cuticles. “You pulled some bad moves. I needed time to figure myself out and by the time I did, it started to feel weird around you. Like we both made such terrible decisions that I didn’t know how to talk to you anymore.” She hesitantly met his hurt eyes, swallowing around her guilt. “We can still be friends, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that you  _ are _ my ex, and talking to you about the shit that I’ve been going through lately… It wasn’t exactly on the top of my list. Sorry.” She said ruefully. 

She looked around uncomfortably. Everyone here probably already knew she had a  _ thing _ for Lydia. Except Kira. But she was new enough that Allison wasn’t really worried about her reaction. She didn’t want the mood to be dragged down by her and Scott’s drama, so she quickly added, “but yeah, turns out I’m-I’m bi.” 

Her breathing sped up along with her heart. That was the first time she actually said it out loud. And she just announced it to 80% of the people she saw on a regular basis. Her eyes rounded as she tilted her jaw up, giving them an image of confidence she didn’t actually feel. She swallowed heavily in the sudden lull in the hushed conversation.    
  
“AYYY!” Allison jumped as Stiles thumped her on the back. “Welcome to the club! We’re working on shirts. You’re joined by yours truly and Scarfboy over there.” He sent a snarky little kiss and wink at Isaac who just rolled his eyes and flipped him off.

“Oh, me too!” Kira piped up and immediately shrank back down as everyone’s gaze swiveled to her. 

“Huh. Well, alright! More members are always accepted.” Stiles smiled her way, and Allison couldn't help but mentally coo at Kira’s blush. Even Boyd cracked a tiny smile.

“Derek’s on your team too, in case you weren’t aware,” Erica casually announced with a wicked grin, and Stiles’  _ ‘WHAT?!’ _ followed by an incoherent spiel including ‘oh my god’s and ‘plans’ and one memorable facepalm was well worth the people in the next lane shooting glares their way. 

Allison looked around in disbelief as they all fell back into their game, completely unfazed and completely fine with Allison’s confession. She knew most of them were open-minded, but this was still unprecedented to her. She continued to bowl, eventually coming in second behind Boyd, who had about as much self-control as Allison had expected. She basked in the buoyant feeling of easy acceptance. This wouldn’t be as simple with her father, and it  _ definitely _ wouldn’t be as simple with Lydia.

Still, as Erica slung an arm over her shoulder with a pleasant smile, free from the snark or sarcasm, and Scott gently punched her thigh with a proud, little smile, Allison couldn’t help but wish her best friend was here too.

She quickly shook off the melancholy threatening to cling to her lungs, turning to Erica. “Where next?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew laddie @me for taking so long to get this chapter out.

This was weird. This was  _ definitely _ weird. 

Allison sat squished between Erica and Stiles on Derek’s couch, watching some independent film that Isaac had raved about in the car, ignoring the glances Derek would throw her way. She had to remind herself to actively relax her shoulders each time they hit her ears from the tension. Still, she could tell that Derek was trying. 

He hadn’t even questioned it when she walked in (though Allison suspected that that was because  _ all _ of his betas had probably warned him). He even played the host, offering her the blood orange pellegrino she was currently drinking. Every time he looked at her, it was with consideration with a hint of suspicion rather than the full-on accusation and aggression he would have given her last week, so she would take it. 

Allison rested her head on Stiles’ shoulder, thinking about the way the day had evolved. It was an emotional rollercoaster, jerky and nauseating in its whiplash vacillation between contentment and the crushing sense of rejection. She hadn’t wanted or even expected her best friend to abandon her. The fact that Lydia actually  _ left _ because of Allison’s distance made her feel about two inches tall. Allison wanted to be able to be fucking  _ normal _ for a day without letting her pervasive crush affect her interactions with Lydia. She wanted to be able to be within a 3-foot radius of her best friend without the space between them feeling like a one-sided magnet that she had to fight against. 

She needed to get it in her head that loving Lydia was hopeless. She needed to stop losing herself in her imagination, seeing this perfect, rose-tinted idea of a day when Lydia would look at her and suddenly realize that maybe Allison was someone she could love. She needed to let Lydia go, let these pointless dreams and hopes go, and even the idea sent an almost physical pain through her. It felt like heartbreak.

She took a deep, steadying breath, ignoring the concerned looks the wolves had begun shooting her way. Oddly enough, she wished Scott and Kira hadn’t begged off from this hangout. She understood why Scott had - the tensions between him and Derek were arguably worse than between  _ her _ and Derek. Kira, well...she was probably there for Scott, so that made sense too. Still, it would have been nice having him here as her friend. Everyone else was new to seeing a softer (re: sadder) side of herself. She shifted in discomfort, trying to relax. They’d been there for her in a way that her inner circle hadn’t. They made her feel normal for a fleeting moment, a rarity lately, so maybe she just needed to stop keeping herself so separated from them. From everyone.

She swallowed thickly, pulling her phone out to send a quick apology text to Lydia. She would just have to fake confidence and normalcy till it became genuine, she guessed. She refused to let this friendship fall through because of something so insignificant as her feelings that would never be reciprocated. She’d just take what she could get. Pine quietly, ignore the oceans of distance between them Allison felt keenly, subsist on the attention she got as Lydia’s  _ friend. _

Her phone vibrated, startling Allison out of the deep blue pool of melancholy she’d dove into. It was Lydia. 

_ I’m not completely ready to forgive you, but I appreciate the apology. _

Allison bit her lip, the corners of her mouth pulling sharply down, disregarding the feeling of the weight that’d fallen off her shoulders settling over heart. She nodded to herself, unsure of what to say. 

“Hey. You’ll give yourself premature wrinkles doing that.” Erica said, rubbing her finger over the scrunched bit of skin between Allison’s furrowed brows. She glanced over Allison’s shoulder, frowning at the phone screen. “Is she seriously still being a bitch?”

“It’s fine. I  _ was _ acting weird.” Allison said, pursing her lips.

“She’s your best friend. She shouldn’t have just left you like that. Especially for her gross boyfriend.” Erica crossed her arms, disapproval apparent in every line of her face. 

“Wait, Lydia actually ditched you?” Stiles cut in, head whipping to the side, almost bashing into hers where it still rested against his shoulder. 

She sat up, sighing, “yep. She wanted to have an ‘us’ day to pull me from my funk or something, and it didn’t work, I guess, because I was too distant or something. I wouldn’t tell her what was wrong with me lately,” she snorted an ugly laugh. “It’s not like I could tell her that  _ she _ was what was wrong with me lately. I guess I don’t blame her for leaving, but it still sucks...” She trailed off with a shrug, ignoring the throbbing bruise to her esteem. She pulled her legs up, hugging them to her chest.

“It’s shitty,” Erica hissed. “She’s supposed to be your  _ best friend.” _

“Sounds like Lydia was hurt. Maybe even jealous.” Stiles noted. 

“Your crush on her has you biased as hell, Batman.” Erica rolled her eyes.

“First of all, I haven’t been in love with Lydia for months.” Stiles mirrored Erica, rolling his eyes, oblivious to Derek’s eyes suddenly drilling into the side of his head. “Second, seriously. When she came back, did she find you with Erica?” He asked Allison, who nodded. “As much of an ethereal ice queen that Lydia likes to think she is, she’s actually pretty soft. She’s also possessive. I think we all regrettably remember how she was with Jackass.” Stiles mimed gagging, making Allison huff a laugh.

“Still, she shouldn’t need to ‘forgive’ Allison. She didn’t actually do anything wrong.” Erica frowned, and Allison shook her head.

“I kind of did? After the whole Jackson/Kanima bullshit and keeping her out of the supernatural loop, we vowed to have no secrets between us. This, though… I don’t know how to tell her I’m b-bi without Lydia figuring out my issues beyond that.” She sighed, letting her head fall to her knees. How was she supposed to tell Lydia if she couldn’t even say the word without cringing or stuttering anyway?

“Do you trust her?” Derek asked, speaking up for the first time since they sat down.

“Ah, yeah,” Allison said, resting her chin on her arms. 

“You know we can hear when you’re lying.” Derek looked unimpressed and Stiles’ eyes flew wide at Allison.

“I’m not lying.” She said firmly. “I just...have my doubts when it comes to how she’ll react. I know she’s perfectly fine with LGBT people when they don’t affect her, but what if she gets grossed out if-  _ when _ she finds out-” Allison cut herself off, closing her eyes. Fucking hell. She still couldn’t believe she was talking about this with  _ Derek’s _ pack. 

“If nothing else, she’ll probably be flattered.” Stiles offered, shrugging with a wince. “She wouldn’t be ‘grossed out’ by you liking her.” 

Allison blushed, burying her head in her arms again, suddenly feeling exhausted. She sighed, “you’re probably right.”

Stiles flung an arm around her. “Hey, cheer up. If Lydia fails you, you still have us!”

Allison raised a sardonic brow, sarcastically adding, “thanks for the reassurance, Stiles.”

“No problem!” He blew a cheeky kiss in her direction, and she playfully shoved his face away with a huff.

In the silence that followed, Allison couldn’t help but notice how  _ not _ uncomfortable it felt. It  _ should _ be, especially after the shit she pulled, especially with the tensions between her family and, well, pretty much all of the supernatural world, and  _ especially _ since her mother’s death, but all she felt was calm. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that a piece of her felt relief when her mom ended it. Not that she would  _ ever _ say that out loud.

There was a thread of guilt in her for even thinking it, but what with the realization that she was becoming more and more of a person that Victoria Argent wouldn’t approve of, it was becoming more and more of a relief that she wasn’t here to actively hate Allison. It still hurt to  _ know _ she would be a pariah in her mother’s eyes, but there was nothing to do about that. She would just have to content herself with the fact that at least most her strange collection of- friends? Acquaintances?- accepted her as she was. 

Her phone rang loud in the quiet room, startling her from her contemplative peace. She grimaced at the name that popped up. 

“Hey, dad,” she said, drawing from the calm around her to keep her voice steady. “What’s up?”

“I think you’d better get home. Now. You and I need to have a little chat.” He replied, a tense edge that immediately set Allison’s heart to racing.

“Uh, did I do something wrong?” She asked, her voice small as five pairs of eyes watched her with varying degrees of concern. 

“Just come home. We’ll talk about it when you get here,” the chime of the other line being hung up was a punctuation that sent Allison on edge. What the hell was that about? 

Grimacing, she asked, “can someone take me home?”

“I can take you,” Stiles offered with an outstretched hand. “I should get back and make sure my dad isn’t trying to sneak shitty food while I’m out anyway,” shrugging at her appreciative smile.

She waved the pack goodbye, smiling genuinely at the offer to come around again sometime. As she hopped into the passenger’s side of Stiles’ beat up, old Jeep, she couldn’t help the panic crawling up her throat, remembering the tension in her dad’s voice. She tilted her head back, closing her eyes as she prayed to every deity she didn’t believe in that she could maybe catch a break for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: What's got Daddy Argent's panties in a twist?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so sorry for the wait for this chapter. I've had a rough month lol.

Stepping through the threshold of her house, Allison’s anxiety rocketed. She didn’t like the strain in her father’s voice on the phone, and there were only a few things she could immediately think of to garner that kind of tightness. He found out about her hanging with the pack. Hunter tension. A new threat was moving into the area. Somehow he found out about her sexuality.

She swallowed thickly as she closed the door. She took deep, measured breaths as she took off her jacket, bag and boots, willing herself to calm the hell down. 

Maybe she was just overthinking it. Maybe he was just pissed because she was out past curfew. Maybe he was just concerned for her well-being. She couldn’t exactly blame him if that was the case given how she’d been acting for the last few weeks. She shook out her hands as if she could physically shake off the excess tension lingering in her hands, her neck, her shoulders, her back. She tried and failed to will the nauseous churning in her stomach to stop. She really needed to get a grip on herself.

With a sigh, she stepped further into the house only to stop short by a cleared throat. She put on the best, brightest grin she could, turning to her father standing in the doorway to the living room, arms crossed and severe in the face. 

She'd seen disappointment in his face before, but this was on a whole other level, and that’s saying something considering she used to date Scott, werewolf and natural enemy of hunters everywhere. He looked weary, a deep frown marring his face as he just stared at Allison. 

“Is everything okay, Dad?” She asked, doing her level best to keep her voice steady and even, unfazed and calm.

“I don’t know, Allison. You tell me.” He said, and she only had a moment to be confused before he reached behind him and pulled a book from the table against the wall. Her diary.

The breath rushed from her as if she’d been punched in the gut, a wave of anger and betrayal coursing through her as she gaped at her father. She stood there, suspended in disbelief, but...was it really that unbelievable? Her father was a man of pragmatism, and if something was wrong, he was going to use whatever means necessary to figure it out. She knew she’d been acting...out of character for a while, but that doesn’t mean her dad had any right to go through her diary-  _ shit. _

He knew. He had to know. There’s no way he went through her diary and  _ didn’t _ know she was a little less than the perfectly heterosexual daughter he and her mom had expected her to be. He had to know about her crush on Lydia, and while he had to know how much she hated herself for it, she wasn’t banking on him caring about that little detail. He was probably disgusted by her. She wouldn’t blame him- regardless of how much she tried to let it go, she thought she was disgusting too.

She felt her face shift through multiple expressions, breaking through the impassivity she’d been trying desperately to cling to. Her dad pursed his lips as he studied her, studied her expression, eyes flicking down at the way she swallowed thickly and the way she held herself, tense and defensive with her chin tilted up in anger, the betrayal shining through in the way her eyes filled with frustrated tears.

“You had no right to go through my things.” She stated, monotone save for the shake in her voice.

“You haven’t been yourself lately. I needed to know what was going on with you, and you certainly weren’t going to talk to me.” He said, stilted and grimacing. “Look, I’ve gotten a tip about a succubus moving into the area, and I need you at your best if we have to take her down. You can’t do that with your head filled with this crap,” he said, lifting the book in question as if in punctuation. When Allison’s brows dipped in confusion again, he continued. “You’ve been worrying over nothing. You’re not gay,” he huffed, rolling his eyes. “This is obviously a phase. You’ll get over it soon. I’m sure of it.”

Allison’s expression grew steely. She’d been halfway prepared for his anger or his upset or his rejection or, hell, she was even partially prepared to be excommunicated for her sexuality. In her mind, there was no version of this where he just flippantly dismissed her feelings, where he scoffed and acted like her liking girls was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. She wasn’t prepared for the hollow feeling in her chest, or the lump building in her throat, or the dizzying betrayal- like his patronization was somehow more hurtful than his outright anger would have been. She definitely wasn’t prepared to feel like he just disregarded an essential part of who she was as a person.

This, out of everything she’d been dealing with, everything that had run through her mind, everything that she had fought, since her gaze started lingering on Lydia, was a sort of tipping point to full acceptance of the fact that she very much was not straight. Not the rush of heat she felt with each flash of Lydia’s smooth skin. Not the persistent thoughts about what Lydia’s bottom lip would taste like. Not the desire to make Lydia feel loved. Not her fluttering heart, or the butterflies in her stomach, or the sweaty palms, or the ache between her legs. No. 

It was the realization of how deeply comforting her new title felt. ‘Bisexual’ fit in a way ‘straight’ never did, and she hadn’t realized just how right it was until someone argued against it.

Sure, hanging with the pack and being accepted into the ‘bi club’ without question was nice and all, but it had felt disconnected somehow, like she was playing pretend, like wasn’t fully comprehending what it actually meant. It was stupid, she knew, but the knowledge that she actually  _ was _ bisexual seemed to have been floating just above her, not truly sinking in until her dad tried to take it from her. She’d been living like she was inhabiting a body not her own, like the part of her mind tainted by her upbringing fought so hard against her recent realizations, and the disparity between the two versions of her split so hard, she’d depersonalized from herself entirely. 

Her dad’s dismissal seemed to snap everything back into place, and it was the best and worst feeling in the world.

“This isn’t a phase,” she bit out in a rush of confidence before she could lose her nerve. She ignored the condescending shake of her dad’s head. “I’ve been messed up over this for a while now, and you’re not going to tell me this is a phase when you have no idea how I’ve been feeling. How much I’ve  _ hated _ myself because of this. I-I’m sorry I’m not what you and mom wanted me to be, but I-” she cut off, blinking away the tears burning behind her eyes, unable to meet her dad’s, the guilt a vice around her throat. “I’m sorry.”

With that, she grabbed her diary out of her father’s stunned lax fingers while he stared at her like she was a stranger. Maybe she was. All she knew was that she needed to get away from him  _ now. _ She booked it to her room, locking the door behind her when she reached her bedroom.

As soon as she lay on her bed, the tears she’d fought so hard to choke back came forth in a rush so hard, it was almost staggering. 

Once it started, she couldn’t fucking stop. She gave into it, something she hadn’t done in almost three weeks now. She’d refused to cry, to give into the despair she’d felt. It felt like losing somehow. Instead, she’d turned that negative energy toward training. She’d used every bit of hatred toward herself, pounding it into the punching bag, visualizing it as a target her arrows tore through, sweating it out as she pushed herself well past her limits. Every day, it’d well back up and she’d hit the gym again. Lather, rinse, repeat. 

Now, though, crying felt like relief, like catharsis. It was like every tear was another reason to hate herself, and each time one fell from her eyes, it loosened the noose around her bit by bit. It was desperate and overwhelming, and the emotional release was the best kind of ache. 

If only Lydia could see her now. Crying over a girl she could never have, over her father outright dismissing who she was as a person, over the ghost of her disapproving mother clinging to her mind, over how much she wanted to love herself but just  _ couldn’t _ yet, over shit she couldn’t even control no matter how hard she tried. She wanted to curl into Lydia’s comforting arms even if they were always stiff and a little awkward. Lydia had never been great at emotional comfort, but she had always been there when her friends needed her.

Well, that wasn’t true now, was it? Allison felt a new wave of tears building. She felt a stinging sense of abandonment, which wasn’t even fair to Lydia. 

This was her own fault, wasn’t it? If she’d just talked to Lydia, even if it was filled with white lies or little omissions, at least she wouldn’t have weakened the ties of their friendship. She spared a few moments to wonder what the butterfly effect would have been if she’d just told Lydia what was on her mind. It’s said that hindsight was 20/20, and boy, was Allison feeling the full weight of  _ that _ too. 

Allison didn’t like regret. She didn’t like making mistakes, especially ones that aren't easily fixed. You’d think she would have learned from her mistakes with Scott and her aunt and her grandfather and literally everyone she knew. You’d think she would have learned the importance of communication. Apparently not.  _ God, _ she was an idiot.

Eventually the tears died down, and all she wanted to do was play, to write every heartbreaking thought running through her mind down into a cohesive melody, so she picked up her guitar, a pencil and her old, weathered lyrics journal, and wrote down everything she felt.

\---

Allison woke abruptly to a pounding on her door that mirrored her pounding headache. She didn’t even remember laying down let alone falling asleep. Fully clothed, no less. The emotional exhaustion of the previous night must have drained her more than she thought.

Another loud knocking had her up and to the door in an instant, ready to tell her dad she wasn’t ready to talk about anything. Maybe about the succubus moving into town (even in her turmoil and strife, she hadn’t forgotten about  _ that _ little bit of information), but anything else was out of the question until she felt like she was back on solid ground.

She unlocked and wrenched the door open, and the anger and irritation was quickly replaced with shock and mortification. 

“Lydia! What, what are you doing here?” Allison asked, forcing the corners of her lips to tilt up into an approximation of a smile. She rested against the door as casually as she could as, studying Lydia as she studied her with wide, hawkish eyes. For fuck’s sake, does she always have to be so beautiful?

“What the hell happened to you?” Lydia retorted in lieu of answering Allison’s question. 

Allison’s brows furrowed, “what do you mean?”

“Have you seen yourself?” Lydia raised a brow, and it looked like they were just going to keep volleying questions back and forth. 

Allison sighed as she went to the mirror, Lydia following after a beat. The door clicked closed, and Allison swallowed thickly. She was more than ready for the butterflies in her stomach to stop kicking up whenever Lydia was in the vicinity, especially after the bullshit the other girl pulled yesterday. Especially when she was already an emotional hot mess. Especially when she had so much on her mind. Especially when she needed to crush this crush into submission. She needed to give up this pipe dream of her very straight best friend ever loving her back.  _ Ugh. _

She looked in her mirror and cursed herself for not checking before opening the door. Her makeup had run down her cheeks. She could almost pass for Lexa from The 100 if not for the horrid, bloodshot eyes, puffy eyes and lips and limp bun. And the fact that she was super pale, had dark hair and entirely different facial features. So...nothing like Lexa except for the makeup. Whatever. The makeup was comparable.

She hadn’t even had the presence of mind to change out of yesterday’s clothes before passing out. No wonder Lydia looked at her like she needed serious help.

She removed her makeup stiltedly as Lydia sat on her bed- a mimicry of the previous day, and they filled the silence with awkward small talk until Lydia rolled her eyes on a heaved sigh.

“Look, I just wanted to see how you’re doing. I kind of left you to the wolves without even taking you home. Literally.” She grimaced apologetically, and Allison felt a smile tug at one side of its own volition. That was probably the best apology she’d get.

“Yeah, I was pretty pissed about that, but...it ended up being fine.” Allison shrugged, letting down her hair only to pull it back up in another bun. 

“How did you get home?” 

“Erica- Well no, I guess Stiles technically took me. Why?” 

Lydia looked baffled. “Why did  _ Stiles _ take you home?”

“We kind of all hung out after you left.” Allison said as she rooted through her drawers to find something new to wear. 

“Oh, well...that’s nice, I guess.” Lydia commented, but something was off about her tone. Allison turned around to frown at her best friend.

“What’s wrong?” Allison asked.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Lydia replied, but Allison was familiar with that tone. It was the same tone she’d used with everyone before Allison had broken through her walls, when she didn’t want to talk about Jackson or her parents or any particularly hard subject. She was confused as to what garnered it now.

“Don’t give me that. Not after everything we’ve gone through.” Allison threw back as she turned to quickly change into something more comfortable- her usual yoga pants and tank top. 

Another heavy sigh sounded behind her, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes fondly at it. Lydia had always had a flair for the dramatic.

“I just feel like we’re drifting apart and I don’t know why,” Lydia admitted in a small voice, and Allison froze, a tightness climbing from her stomach to wrap around her throat. She turned around, sat by her best friend and, ignoring her instincts to keep her distance (and also her instincts to melt into the other girl), pulled Lydia into a hug. She sighed, relieved, when Lydia’s arms didn’t hesitate to pull her in as well.

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault for hermitting away instead of talking to you. I’ve just been going through a lot lately,” she murmured into Lydia’s ear.

“I could have helped you with that, you know,” Lydia murmured back, tickling the baby hairs just behind Allison’s ear, and Allison had to choke down the laugh at that. Lydia had absolutely no idea how much she could  _ not _ help her.

“This isn’t something that really needs help. It’s just a...me thing,” she said, pulling away with a tight grin. Her heart beat wildly as Lydia kept one of her hands captive. At Lydia’s frown, she added, “I’m fine now.”

“Really,” Lydia said flatly, her frown deepening. “You still look like shit. For the second day in a row. When I see you at school, you look like a zombie. You look like you’ve lost a lot of weight. I wouldn’t exactly say you're ‘fine.’”

“Hey, any weight I’ve lost was fat. I’ve actually gained a few pounds. It’s just all muscle,” Allison retorted, internally cringing.  _ Did she really look that bad? _ “The whole ‘zombie’ thing was just stress, but I’ve figured my shit out and I’m honestly feeling a lot better.” 

She found relief in being able to say so truthfully. Regardless of the tension between her and her dad, and the inability to tell Lydia how she feels about her, there was a calm in chipping off a bit of the internalized homophobia weighing on her heart. She still had a long way to go. Self-hate and flagellation weren’t easy to things to just throw off her shoulders after so long. Repression, she found, ran deeper than she’d thought and longer than just these past few weeks, and undoing the number her parents did on her was no simple task, but...she was getting there, and that had to count for something.

The way Lydia looked at her doubtfully made her want to shrink into herself, but she sat with her shoulders back, head held high as a certain confidence in herself returned after far too long. Lydia’s frown flickered into something like resignation before flipping her hair over her shoulder, signalling that she was letting go of the subject for now. (And for god’s sake, the level of Allison’s ability to read Lydia’s every move should have been at  _ least _ a yellow flag. Sometimes she really did want to slap herself for being so damn oblivious.)

“Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better because I need to go over my party lists with you. I have everything sorted, and I have a general time table laid out for everyone involved, but we need to go over yours to make sure it lines up with...whatever you’ve got going on.” Lydia said, pulling out literal charts and lists from her purse, setting out to bowl Allison over with information. 

Allison sighed fondly, going over every bit of detail with her best friend. Lydia was nothing if not hyper detail-oriented. Absolutely everything was covered in her plans- her (extensive) guest list, drinks, food, lighting, entertainment, photo booth space, decor, gift bags, cake, back ups for all of that, back ups for her back ups. As much as it all exhausted Allison, she would do just about anything to see that sunrise smile.

“So, I was thinking that you could maybe play something at my party,” Lydia mentioned after what felt like hours of planning, eyes firmly set on one of her many graphs. Allison jerked in surprise, studying the downturned side of Lydia’s determined face.

“I-I don’t know, Lyds. My music doesn’t match any of...well, anything else you’ve got planned. It’d just be a mood killer, and people don’t want to hear acoustic music at a party anyway, so you really don’t want-”

“If you don’t want to, just say so,” Lydia sharply cut in, disappointment coloring her expression. Allison was thrown for a loop.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t think it’d be a good idea.” She said hesitantly. 

“It’s fine.” Lydia said, turning back to her planning, but her closed off body language belied her words. For some reason, Allison got the sense that she was...hurt? 

It made absolutely no sense. Lydia had never shown too much interest in her music before aside from mild surprise that Allison played guitar. She’d never actually expressed a desire to hear anything Allison had written before. Sure, she’d been there, absently listening while Allison toyed around with chord progressions and key changes and whatnot, and had been there in the background (re: forefront) of Allison’s mind while she wrote lyrics. Still, Lydia had always seemed so engrossed in her own projects or work, paying no mind to Allison. And now, all of a sudden, she was hurt by Allison’s hesitation to play at her party? 

Allison only had a moment to wonder about it when her door suddenly opened, admitting her father without even a courtesy knock.

“Allison, I think we need to- Oh. Lydia. You’re still here.” Her dad’s tone fell flat around Lydia’s name, and Allison’s stomach turned sharply as he glowered at her best friend. 

“Hi, Mr. Argent. How are you?” Lydia asked, her smile growing apprehensive and strained under Chris’s glare.

“I’m fine. I need to speak with Allison for a moment. Will you excuse us?” He asked tightly.

Allison caught Lydia’s brow furrowing in her periphery as she looked between Allison and Chris. Allison’s hard stare was fixated on her dad, indignant and irate. Lydia cleared her throat, collecting her things.

“I think I’m gonna head out. I’ll text you later?” She asked tentatively, and Allison nodded, throwing a small, reassuring smile back. Lydia squeezed her arm on the way out, catching Allison off-guard. She swallowed thickly as she watched Lydia leave, taking another piece of her heart along with her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Allison and Chris talk, Lydia's party and a new visitor rolls into Beacon Hills.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you see any errors, please let me know! This is completely un-betaed!
> 
> Also, come join me on [tumblr](https://kafrickinboom.tumblr.com/) to cry about our favorite girls, and to chat about our eternal denial of Allison's death!


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